


You Mean Something to Me

by Oakenshieldsgold



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Depression, Drunken sex, Fingering, It's not PWP I promise, M/M, Rivalry, Rivalry AU, Sex, Slow Burn, actually it starts out on fire and then it starts burning again, everyone is broken and nothing is okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakenshieldsgold/pseuds/Oakenshieldsgold
Summary: Yuuri first met Viktor at his final junior competition 5 years ago. After only a few days of knowing each other they became unlikely friends- the idol and his worshipper. However after his senior debut, something happens between the two which pushes them to the verge of destruction.Now, five years later, they're finally dealing with it, only Yuuri's idea of dealing with it might just break them after all.AKA: the rivals AU which I suppose isn't really a rivals AU if the hate is one sided!





	1. Banquet

Sometimes you have to act on your feelings, even if you don’t want to, for fear of them consuming your soul. These were the thoughts which raced through Yuuri Katsuki’s mind as he knocked back his umpteenth glass of champagne. He was standing in the center of a large ballroom illuminated by candlelight and all around people were looking his way, still amused by his solo dance performance three glasses ago. Tonight it may have been the alcohol giving him courage but it was his heart guiding him. He ignored the sound of phone cameras being turned on and made his way back to the dance floor.

This was his chance, finally, convey his feelings to Viktor Nikiforov. Until now fate, being a cruel mistress, had kept Viktor’s attention firmly away from him during his previous alcohol induced performance. Yuuri knew that he needed to go further, drink more, and grab his attention. Then boy did he have a plan.

Viktor had been talking animatedly to a blonde Russian skater for most of the night. The other Yuri. Although Viktor hadn’t seen Yuuri's frankly amazing dance, the younger skater had. He looked away from Viktor to shoot him a look of disgust. That was his cue. He whirled around, yanking his tie from his neck and pointed directly at Yuri  
“YURI PLISETSKY YOU THINK YOU CAN DO BETTER?!” he sauntered over to the shook blonde and looked down at him teasingly, a smirk on his lips “show me what you got.” For a moment the teenager just stood there, his face a mixture of disbelief and rage. Then  
“YOU’RE ON PIG.”

He certainly had Viktor’s attention from then. He was surprised at first, then amused at how seriously his friend took it. Then his eyes began to drift more and more to Yuuri, looking more and more amused as he did. In the spur of the moment Yuuri pulled the silver haired Russian to the dance floor and they danced, skater style, to a song neither really knew. Their moment was cut off by a small blonde missile who would not accept defeat and challenged the older Yuuri once more. He was good but his stamina was nowhere near the levels of the Japanese skater and he was forced to tap out after five heated rounds of dance battling. Yuuri’s heart began to race, he had to keep Viktor’s attention. And then fate, finally deciding to work in his favour, brought him two beautiful gifts; Christophe Giaccometti, and a stripper pole.

From that moment Yuuri had Viktor in the palm of his hands. With every spin, flip and thrust on the pole he could feel Viktor watching him closer and closer. Yuuri grinned. It was working. He spun and then found himself joined by a barely clothed Chris, which gave him even more inspiration. He spun so he was hanging upside down, then freed himself from his dress shirt and threw it at the older skater. He watched as the other man went bright crimson and pulled the shirt from his head. Hook. He spun one arm, going into a superman position high on the pole. Line. He adjusted his position so he was parallel to the pole, arms strong, and rolled against it using every muscle in his body to keep his movements slow and sexy. Sinker. He heard him move towards him before he’d even come down from the pole. He dropped to the floor just as a cold hand pulled him away from the dance floor and forced his arms back into his shirt. This required the taller man to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s sweaty and stumbling form. He was about to remove them when he pounced.  
“Viktor~~~ after this season ends, my family runs a hot spring resort, so please come. If I win this dance battle, you’ll become my coach right?” Viktor was frozen in shock at Yuuri’s confession  
“Be my coach Viktor!” He felt Viktor shudder against him and heard his breath catch in his throat. Perfect.

Celestino was gone, and no one seemed to object to Viktor ‘helping’ Yuuri back up to his room. Although, they didn’t know what the other two knew. They didn’t know what was about to happen. The end of the party had consisted Viktor catching up almost to Yuuri’s level of drunkenness and dancing. Somehow instead of taking the left to his room, Yuuri had convinced him to go right towards the Russians room.

Yuuri was still hanging off him as he fumbled with the key in the lock, finally hearing a click and pushing the door open. The pair stumbled into the dark room. They stood, blue eyes meeting brown, both frozen in place until they heard the door click shut. Yuuri jumped forward. Their lips crashed together in a chaotic but hypnotic rhythm. Yuuri’s skin was already burning, suppressed emotions finally surfacing, flooding through him and fuelling his body. He felt Viktor’s hands grab his hair and entangle themselves in the damp black locks. Viktor pulled their lips apart

“this is a mistake.” He whispered. Yuuri didn’t believe him, his voice was laced with desire and his body was already betraying him. Yuuri could feel his hardness through his suit trousers. He ignored the protest and reconnected with the silver haired man. But he was still uncertain, Yuuri almost felt sympathetic for the man, not wanting to take advantage of him. He pushed Yuuri against the wall hitting the light switch as he did. As their faces were illuminated by the low orange glow. Yuuri’s lips were plump and pink, wet from their saliva. His usually pale skin was flushed pink from desire and hot to the touch. Their rough kisses had shifted the barely buttoned shirt so that it was hanging off on of his shoulders and exposing the soft unmarked flesh there. Their desire and was laid bare for them to see, any feelings of uncertainty died in Viktor’s heart and what ever he had been about to say faded from his mind. Why talk when there were better things his lips could be doing?

Their kisses were hot and heavy. Viktor was practically lifting Yuuri from the ground his kisses were so strong. He ran his tongue along the brunette’s lower lip and sucked on him hungrily. Yuuri gasped as teeth bit and pulled at the abused flesh. His hands found Viktor’s waist and pulled him in. He wrapped his legs around and gripped onto his shoulders making sure to dig his nails into the clothed flesh. He felt Viktor gasp against his lips and thrust against him instinctively.

Viktor broke their kiss and moved down along his chin, stopping at his neck to leave his statement before reaching the real prize. He couldn’t do much to the neck because of their costumes, it would raise far too many questions. But this shoulder was his for the taking. He took the flesh between his teeth and sucked Yuuri’s collarbone raw.  
“ah!” he cried out as Viktor’s teeth dragged along his flesh and found a fresh spot to taste. He didn’t stop until Yuuri’s skin was mottled with marks. Viktor lifted Yuuri and carried him to the double bed, stumbling from the alcohol. How they got there in one piece he had no idea. Viktor lay him down and straddled his waist. Yuuri reached up, aching to resume contact with the Russian, but Viktor pushed him down.  
“I want to see you.” He whispered into his ear. Yuuri felt a burning in his heart which threatened to overwhelm him. Something carnal deep inside him awakened at the words.  
“What are you waiting for?” he gasped in a voice far more breathless than he expected.

It spurred Viktor on. He grabbed at the shirt he had put back on Yuuri only a few hours ago and tore it from his form revealing his firm pale chest and pert pink nipples. He ducked down and ran his tongue slowly from Yuuri’s neck down to his abdomen where he bit down again, making the other shiver. Pleased with the response he kissed his way back up to one of the pink nipples. He kissed around the flesh around them, Yuuri could feel Viktor’s hot breath teasing the sensitive skin, Yuuri whined in desperation for the other man’s touch. Sensing his craving, Viktor closed his mouth around the pink skin and Yuuri was gone. His whole body arched into the touch as Viktor held onto his torso like an anchor and lapped at his chest. His tongue flicked and dragged across the smooth skin, moving faster and eliciting louder and louder moans from the brunette. He bit down and sucked hard. Yuuri was shocked at how much more sensitive it was here than on his shoulder, how much more it made him tremble, how much more it made him want. Viktor released him and moved across his chest, intending to give his other nipple the same treatment. In his lust induced haze Yuuri pulled himself back to reality for one moment, for one thing.  
“Stop.” Immediately Viktor pulled back and stared at him. His pupils were so large that their azure hue had almost disappeared. He was leaning over him arms either side of Yuuri’s shoulders, one of his legs placed on either side of him. Yuuri only just realized his legs were still wrapped around his waist, arms still gripping to his back. Both were panting breathless and aroused. The animal inside Yuuri grinned wickedly. Viktor was completely wrapped up in him now. They were so close, but there was one barrier left.

“Strip”

Viktor’s eyes flashed with thirst at Yuuri’s command. He was clearly surprised at the dominance in his tone, but he had a feeling that the Russian liked it. His suspicions were confirmed when he eagerly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders. He was quick to undo his belt and kicked off his suit trousers quickly after. His socks and shoes were a thing of the past, leaving him only in his black briefs. Despite how Yuuri felt now, his eyes widened in awe of the man above him. He was chiseled to perfection each muscle shone on his marble skin like a master piece. Before he had the chance to fully appreciate the large hard bulge in his underwear, Viktor had turned his attention back to Yuuri and was pulling his belt and trousers off with as much ease as his own. He felt the other man breathe in sharply as he shed his briefs and revealed his hard leaking cock. Viktor looked about ready to go even further when Yuuri commanded him again

“Sit up." Viktor, smirking, leant back as Yuuri sat up making sure to keep their skin in contact the whole way. When he was sure he was steady, he grabbed Viktor’s shoulders and pushed him onto his back, flipping their positions so that he was straddling the other man. This wasn’t what he’d planned but fuck it this was his childhood idol he at least wanted to play out one of his fantasies. He leant over, pressing their foreheads together forcing Viktor to look right at him.  
“I’ll bring tears to your eyes.” They didn’t break eye contact as Yuuri kissed, bit and sucked his way down to the waist of Viktor's underwear. He licked the clothed bulge then grabbed the elastic between his teeth. He pulled and released it, relishing in the loud moan Viktor released as the elastic smacked against his skin. Yuuri took the fabric between his teeth again and this time pulled the underwear down releasing Viktor’s hard wet cock.  
“Fuck Yuuri!”  
“Please do” Yuuri replied huskily, Viktor barked out a laugh which made Yuuri hesitate for a moment before licking the long thick shaft from base to tip. He gasped again, hands winding their way into his thick hair, encouraging him. Yuuri proceeded to lick the slit oozing with pre-cum, he made slow work of it savouring every last bit. “Yuuri you’re driving me insane”. Yuuri licked the shaft up once more before taking the full length into his mouth. Viktor gasped and writhed against the sheets as Yuuri sucked at the tip bobbing up and down to take in as much of the other man as he possibly could. He felt the other man thrust against him, the tip of Viktor’s cock grazed the back of his throat and he was forced to pull away, spluttering at the sudden contact, damn his gag reflex. Viktor took this opportunity to push Yuuri back onto the bed. When they locked eyes Yuuri smiled inwardly at the redness of his eyes.  
“Let me fuck you.” His hands trailed down and circled his entrance, waiting for his response  
“Get inside me.” He moaned. Viktor let go of him just for a moment to grab a condom from the bedside table. When he turned back his lips were immediately claimed by the younger man, desperate to continue.

Viktor only had to insert one digit to make Yuuri cry out. He gasped as Viktor inserted another finger, fucking him with his fingers to prepare him for what was coming next. He felt his own cock twitch against his stomach as another finger breached his entrance.  
“Ah! I can’t wait anymore!” he gasped. Viktor reclaimed his lips as he withdrew his fingers and lined his cock up to the Yuuri’s entrance. Slowly he pushed, going slow until every inch of him was buried in his tight hole. Yuuri dug his nails into Viktor’s shoulders crying out at the pain and pleasure. He didn’t move at first but Yuuri’s moans of impatience sent him over the edge. He pulled out half way and thrust back in  
“ah!” Yuuri choked out his voice thick and shaking. He thrust hard over and over, sending waves of pleasure through Yuuri’s body until he began to fall apart. He was shaking and moaning louder and louder with every thrust. Then he felt Viktor hit that sweet spot and he was sent to another world of pleasure. He arched and gasped and cried and clawed at Viktor’s back desperate to feel him hit that spot again. He found it over and over until Yuuri couldn’t take it anymore  
“I’m going to c-c” he couldn’t even finish his sentence as Viktor hit him there again and he felt everything melt away as his orgasm thrummed through him. The feeling of Yuuri’s hole tightening around his dick was enough to end Viktor. He came inside him only moments after the brunette and they panted, breathless, foreheads pressed together as Viktor pulled out of Yuuri.

He rolled on to his back and pulled Yuuri under his arm, cradling him against his damp form. They both knew they had to clean up, get out of bed and face the aftermath of what they’d just done. But for now they were both too full and weak to even consider moving. Viktor held Yuuri tight against him as their breathing steadied to a matching rhythm. The feeling which threatened to consume him before the party had dulled but it hadn’t gone away. It was somewhere stirring just beneath the surface. Yuuri hadn’t expected to be rid of it right away, but now he had it under control. Yuuri rolled slightly away from Viktor. Those were the things he thought as he drifted out of consciousness.

He awoke first, like he knew he would. He sat up and observed the room. It was blue and gray in the light of the early morning. Yuuri lifted one arm to his head to run his fingers through his hair. Sticky. He rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand.

His gaze drifted to the still body on his right. He had turned away from him in the night, but Viktor Nikiforov was still there, sound asleep with no signs of waking. He observed the man for a moment through half closed eyes. He looked innocent like this, the cold light casting a blue hue on his skin. His features were so delicate they could have been made from ice itself. Yuuri wondered if his heart was cold too? He already knew the answer to that though, so it was a stupid question.

Ignoring his pounding head ache, Yuuri swung his legs off of the bed and quietly pulled his clothes back on. He was pleased to find he hadn’t discarded his room key or glasses before coming up to the room. He pulled on his suit jacket and checked the time. 6 am. Time to go. He was about to leave when he caught sight of Viktor’s sleeping form once more in the mirror. He hesitated. This was his chance, finally, to convey his feelings to Viktor Nikiforov.

He turned around slowly and walked over to the sleeping man. He leant over his form and brushed his fringe aside. He really was beautiful. That feeling reared it’s ugly head again, threatening to explode from his chest. He had to do it now. Yuuri leant over Viktor, lips ghosting the skin of his ear. They were almost touching. He sighed.

“I hate you, Viktor.”


	2. Bring Him Home

~Before~

Yuuri Katsuki had replayed the video so many times he had lost count. He was leaning on the edge of the rink, phone in hand, following the miniature Viktor’s every move trying to commit them to memory. Spread eagle, a simple 3 point turn and then out of nowhere he seemed to summon the strength to pull off a masterful quadruple salchow. No matter how much he watched the video, Yuuri’s jaw dropped every time. Viktor was so handsome it made him blush, but it was his skating which kept him hitting the replay button over and over. He replayed it twice more to the same reaction. Suddenly, remembering his plan he turned off his phone and shook his head vigorously to focus his mind. He pushed himself away from the barrier.

Yuuri was a competitive figure skater and at 15 years old he was finally preparing himself to move half the way around the world and make the Jump from Junior to Senior skating. To skaters all over the world, that promised competition, fame and the highest honour a figure skater could imagine, a medal from the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri was interested in all of those things of course, but to him there was only one real motivation in his heart. Skating in the seniors meant finally sharing the ice with his idol: Viktor Nikiforov. It was the only thought keeping his anxiety at bay. 

He warmed up by skating a few loops around the rink. He had first laid eyes on Viktor after his best friend Yuuko asked him to watch the Junior Grand Prix final a few years ago. Back then Viktor’s hair was long and billowed behind him like wings as he spun around the rink. Yuuri pulled away from the edges began to weave his way across the ice. This was something he had picked up from the Russian. Not only could he jump with the skill and ease of someone years his senior, he could weave a story across the ice. Like lace he created a delicate web of narrative and emotion which you couldn’t help but fall in love with. Yuuri certainly had.

He sped up turning his feet outwards into a spread eagle and sprung from the ice with all the strength he could muster. He felt himself spin through the air, one, two, three, and four times, before his skates reconnected with the ice. His free leg was sloppy, his center of gravity was all over the place, but he was on his feet and beaming from behind his blue rimmed glasses. He’d done it, for the first time in his life.

He heard a whooping from the side of the barriers and the noise of a camera snapping quickly  
“I got it, Yuuri!” The brunette skated to a stop just in front of his slightly taller rink mate  
“Hikaru you didn’t film t did you?!” Yuuri asked, going bright red. The older man beamed  
“Ah don't be shy Yuuri... you’re going to regret not having these moments on film later. Besides I’ve already set up cameras on the rink” Yuuri gaped at him suddenly feeling very self conscious  
“Hi-Hikaru! Why would you do that?!” He laughed lightly and pushed himself onto the ice, practicing figure eights round the brunette.  
“don’t worry Yuuri, it’s for coach’s eyes only.” Yuuri relaxed slightly, at least there wouldn’t be a public viewing. That might just end him.

He skated around the rink, half focusing on practicing his steps, half watching Hikaru practice his free skate. He was five years his senior but only an inch or so taller than him with a similar build. People often mistook them for siblings despite having a different last name, but recently he had to admit even to himself that if it were not for the sharp definition of the older skaters features they could have passed for twins. Hikaru had immediately taken a shine to Yuuri, taking him under his wing and guiding him as best he could. Although he did not have the same spectacular medal history, in his eyes Hikaru was second only to Viktor. 

He skidded to a stop arms raised like a bird in flight and the music died. Yuuri skated over to him eagerly  
“That was amazing!” He smiled  
“you think?” he grinned, pleased with himself. Yuuri nodded  
“You’ll do great this year.”  
“What about you, this is your last skate in the juniors.” Yuuri nodded, confidence wavering at the thought.

After talking it over with their coach, he had decided to move up to the senior division and change coaches, meaning this would Yuuri’s last season in Japan for the fore seeable future. Yuuri had considered putting it off one more year; he’d been prone to terrible anxiety all his life and he’d discovered that uncertainty was his biggest trigger. Ambiguous words, extended periods of silence, unfamiliar surroundings all things he would be forced to deal with if he lived alone in a foreign country. But he couldn’t stay here, he knew that was no way to improve. Without facing the real competition, he would never get the experience he needed to climb to the top. This was the best move for his career. He had searched inside himself for months trying to find the strength to commit to the change. He should have known he would have found his strength in the routines of his idol.

Next year he would finally share the ice with Viktor and show him what he could do. With his goodbye performance he could do that. He didn’t care about winning really, he cared about making an impression on the man, he wanted Viktor to remember his name because of his skating. 

Yuuri fidgeted in his place on the ice, going a little red at the thought. This was not missed by his friend, who grinned. “Show me your free, Yuuri.” Yuuri nodded nervously and glided to the center of the rink, waiting for the music to begin.

The music resonated throughout the rink and Yuuri lost himself immediately. He was skating to “Bring Him Home” from Les Miserables. This was the only music he’d ever chosen personally, but he’d known he wanted to use it for a long time. As a strong smooth voice sang the first line he started; lifting his arm above his head as he spun slowly on his toe. He transitioned perfectly into a backwards curve on his outside edge and extended his leg high behind him. He moved in a smooth arch across the ice, imagining himself etching his own story into the smooth surface of the ice below. 

His arms rose and fell delicately around him as he turned on his grounded skate and began to step fast, gaining momentum for the jumps he knew were coming. His steps took him almost the whole way around the ice before he returned to the center and prepared to jump. He launched himself from the ground spinning three times before landing, his blade meeting the ice in perfect harmony. Viktor would have done a quadruple salchow, like in the videos he had been watching earlier, but he an Yuuri were different. Yuuri didn’t need quads to win and he was about to prove why.

He transitioned from the jump to his step sequence by bringing around his free leg and turning into a technically perfect spread eagle. All the while his arms were moving along with the singer’s heart wrenching voice. This song meant everything to him, this routine meant everything and more. The first jump was the first he’d ever landed in a competition, his steps were strong and emotive like his junior debut, his arms were slow and sensitive representing all the tears he’d shed to get to this point. It was his impassioned plea to his parents, an apology for the time he would lose with them. "But I will come home". He turned once more, steadying his free leg before jumping into a triple axel. The piano which played marking the beginning of his step sequence sounded like tear drops. He slowed it down and brought his arms close. It was his resolution to himself which kept his anxiety at bay. I’ll be gone for a long time but stronger for it. He lunged to the ground into a drag then spun himself around to the other direction, arms raising above his head on the first move then reaching out as though grasping someone’s hand on the turn. In his mind it was Viktor. It was his pale but warm fingers which linked between his own and gave him the strength he needed to continue. "I am only a boy but with Viktor’s support I can grow. Sharing the ice with him will be like sharing one heart. Only with this programme can I show him that I am worthy of that heart". He spun slowly lowering himself down until he felt one knee touch the ice. On the final note he drew his arm back and followed it with his head, coming to a stop as the sweet voice silenced.

His whole body trembled with exhaustion as he pulled himself back to reality. This was certainly the most physically demanding routine he had done to date, and it was probably only half as good as anything Viktor could do. He didn’t mind, he would get there in time. He picked himself up and turned to face his rink mate. Hikaru’s jaw was practically on the floor. Yuuri suddenly cringed, anxiety beginning to seep through him at the man’s silence. Was it that bad?

“Yuuri…” Hikaru breathed his name shakily “…that was unbelievable. You’ll breeze through.” Yuuri felt his eyes widen at the praise. Forgetting his nerves and exhaustion entirely he sped over to where his friend was standing  
“R-really? Do you think Viktor will like it?” Hikaru smiled fondly at the boy  
“You’ll bring tears to his eyes.”

~After~

Yuuri had packed everything for his flight back to Japan that night, now it was just a matter of killing time in his hotel until then. He had decided to have a short break back home before returning to Detroit. Yuuri was excited to see his family, but the thought had him craving katsudon like mad. After searching through his phone for fifteen minutes or so he finally found a Japanese restaurant which delivered and dialed his order through. He only had to wait half an hour more to get the call from the front desk to inform him his food had arrived.

With his take away warming his lap Yuuri decided to atch a bit of TV, to try and take his mind off of the events of the past few days. It was bad luck which caused the first programme which came on the TV to be about skating  
“…and now let’s get straight into the highlights of the men’s short programme. What have you got for us Georgi?” He almost spat his food out at the name. Sure enough it was the same Georgi who he had competed against only a few months before. He had announced his retirement almost immediately after the cup of China and had apparently already settled into a comfortable roll as a presenter. Yuuri sat up on his hotel room bed shovelling katsudon into his mouth as he watched the Russian ex-skater take the mic.  
“Well John it sure was a shocking day of skating if you ask me. Expectations were surpassed, the bar was raised and the climb to the podium was tougher than ever before. Let’s start by analyzing the top skaters at the beginning of the season…” Yuuri tired to not listen their words, he did have far more important things katsudon to be focusing on right now, but self destructive as he was he listened anyway. When he heard his name he completely reengaged with the screen.

“Finally, we have the so called Champion of Tears Katsuki Yuuri. His career until this point has been characterized by tear jerking performances based around melancholy themes. Katsuki has often been asked why he is so inclined to choose such sad stories to tell on the ice, but his motivation in that respect still remains a mystery. Actually John, if you wanted to try and get a peek inside his head, you should check his fan pages! The theories they come up with each season are insane and totally addictive.” Yuuri choked on his rice. What was Georgi of all people doing stalking his fan pages? Yuuri was about to reach over for his laptop to text the Russian that very question, when the other reporter chimed in  
“ah but Georgi this season he chose a completely different theme? Could you give us some insight on that?” Yuuri tensed. He should have known it wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.  
“Ah yes, in stark contrast to his theme last year of ‘hubris’, the theme he chose this year was ‘innocence lost’. He faced some criticism for the controversial link between his programme theme and the song of the same name…” Yuuri lost interest as Georgi repeated the old spiel the tabloids had printed after his theme was first announced, but he refused to change it. 

That theme was the first stage of his plan. It grabbed your attention like none of his other programmes could. It was a sure way to put Viktor on edge. Only he would understand the true meaning behind the words. Yuuri smirked as he thought back to the previous night, their sinful touches radiating lust and desire. How fitting it was that he’d chosen that title this season. “… but his final position was a disappointment.” Yuuri’s mind was drawn back to his frankly disastrous free programme the day before. That had been… less than ideal. Seeing Viktor for the first time in person since that day five years ago had brought all of his hatred to a head. Those nerves which he had kept under control seemed to seep out of him and into his performance which was good enough to earn him last place. Less than ideal. But that didn’t matter anymore. He would make up for his loss in the worlds.

What mattered now was his performance off the ice. He had proven countless time throughout his career that he was capable creating the most believable performances, tying people to his story, to him. After last night the stage was finally set for the most spectacular performance of his career. Yuuri was the evil temptress, who would seduce the prince of Russia and throw him away just as he got attached. With Viktor at the height of his career, he had a long way to fall.

“…speaking of which, some people have been comparing Nikiforov’s latest free programme to Katsuki’s phenomenal Free programme from his last junior competition. A side by side comparison of the videos has recently garnered over 500,000 views.” Yuuri’s attention was drawn back to the screen. This was news to him.

“Now people aren’t suggesting that the routine has been plagiarised, but the video removed Nikiforov’s original music and replaced it with the audio from Katsuki’s skate and I think you’ll agree the result is unbelievable, have a look for yourselves.” Yuuri leant in towards the television as two videos appeared side by side. 

The one on the left was of Viktor, filmed just hours before their encounter yesterday, the one on the right was of himself at 15 years old. Yuuri’s eyes widened. It was practice footage, Yuuri was wearing his casual black outfit and even had his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He blushed at the thought of the whole world seeing this. As ‘Bring Him Home’ started playing from the TV, Yuuri began to see what the presenters had meant.

Yuuri had performed this routine imagining he had been skating with an invisible partner; each move of his arms was a reach out to the invisible skater and every turn was a turn to them. As Yuuri watched Viktor’s routine to his music for the first time and realised the link between the two. It like watching the other half, Viktor was the invisible skater in manifest. He was playing out every move Yuuri had imagined in his head and more. Seeing the routines side by side like this, even Yuuri had to admit they completed each other. His throat tightened. He put down his meal and reached over for the remote, turning the TV off. 

Yuuri sat there in silence, digesting what he had just watched. As the image of Viktor skating alongside his routine swam around his head a familiar feeling began to grow in him again. “no” he gasped, clutching his heart so tight his eyes began to water, trying anything to stop the feeling from consuming him like before. “This was supposed to go away.” He took a series of deep shuddering breaths trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t let this get to him like it had during his free skate, "I have to make it through the worlds alongside Viktor, or it was all for nothing..."

Yuuri had the conviction, but his body was betraying him. As the familiar signs of anxiety began to attack him again, Yuuri’s hatred of Viktor only grew, dragging him back down the dark hole he had tried so hard to climb out of. He collapsed onto the bed, shaking and gasping for air, chest refusing to expand. In his mind Viktor’s icy features glowed bright in a blue light which threatened to blind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the chapters will be split into before and after sections form now on! Before means before the Banquet and after means after the banquet in case anyone was confused!
> 
> Depending on length one chapter might be entirely in the before section or in the after section! But i'll make that clear when I come to writing it!
> 
> Also Yuuri's free skate is based off if this programme (one of my faves) from last season: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhL3JI6Pnzg
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story, fyi this is probably going to be quite a slow burn for now but it will get steamy later trust!


	3. Looking Too Closely

Yuuri had never been happier to be on a plane. Ever since the video had been posted that morning he had seen his name jump to the top of the worldwide trends on twitter and the most searched on google. Usually that would have been fine, it would be great for his sponsors and may have gotten him some great deals for the next season. But everywhere he looked there was another name next to his. Viktor Nikiforov. Although it was impossible, he felt as though people knew. As though those intimate moments they’d shared the night before were broadcast for the world.

In the heat of the moment it had definitely been enjoyable, but sex motivated by hatred had left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was all part of the plan, he thought to himself. He would make Viktor fall in love with him then cast him aside. Only he knew the true extent of his seductive powers and Viktor was in for a rude awakening. The creature in his heart reared its ugly head This plan rests on you getting through the worlds. Yuuri rubbed his temples. He had finished last place in the final, there was a tough road ahead of him and it would not be compatible with his anxiety. He would be fine, this video changed nothing.  
“Please set your mobile phones to flight safe mode and fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for take off.”  
Those were the words he’d been waiting to hear. He’d never been happier to be on a plane, and disconnected from the world just for a little while.

Yuuri pulled out his phone and turned it on. His heart stopped. Ten missed calls, a couple from Phitchit, but most of them were from someone else. Someone he hadn’t spoken to in years. He looked at the glowing screen, trying hard to keep his face void of emotion. This was not what he needed right now.

He flicked his thumb across the screen and clicked the little green button which took him to his contacts. Just reading the name made his stomach clench, but when he clicked on the contact and saw the small image of himself posing with his former rink mate, he felt acid clawing up his throat. He bit back his anger and tore his eyes from the photo. Yuuri knew he should have deleted the contact five years ago, but he had been a coward. His hands began to shake; his skin went clammy. In his mind he was replaying all the awful memories of the last five years. Stop it, don't think about it. He couldn’t let this happen again, not when his revenge was so close. He took a long shaking breath to calm himself down. Yuuri clicked on the name, opening a new message.

Was this you?

He quickly opened safari, found the video of him and Viktor skating side by side, copied the link and pasted it beneath the text. His finger hovered over the send button, hesitating. 

“Excuse me sir please turn your phone off.” He was startled by the voice of the flight attendant and dropped his phone to the floor.  
“Oh of course, I’m sorry!” he squirmed in his seat trying to reach the phone on the floor. When he finally got a good enough grip on it to bring it back to his lap he saw that fate had intervened once again. The message was sent. He huffed a low sigh and rolled his head back against the head rest. This was too much for his heart. He was about to turn the phone to flight mode when the phone buzzed into life.

Yuuri, you aren’t well.

And this was supposed to make him better? Yuuri didn't reply, switching the phone to airplane mode and forcing it into his back pack. He leant back and tried to get comfortable in his narrow seat.

What could a video do in the long run? It wouldn’t change anything. Yes, it resurrected some memories he’d rather forget about and yes, those memories had been major triggers for his anxiety. But that was years ago, he was different now. He closed his eyes, determined to sleep. There was nothing to be done until the plane landed in Japan. He could try to catch up on the hours of sleep he had lost over the last few days and forget everything. For now he would put his lif eon pause then he would start again.

xXx

Yuuri had gotten used to the long haul flights by now, he could usually clock out for the whole flight and not get restless, he barely even got jet lag anymore. This time however, he was tense. Not because of the unexpected turbulence half way through, or the extra hour they had to spend circling the runway, but because this was it. His last Junior Grand Prix Final. In fact this was his first final. He had been fairly unremarkable until this point, good but not great. But these last two years he’d really come into his own. Every year before this he had just missed the final, sometimes by a single point, but now it was his chance. It was absolutely terrifying.

Over the tannoy an air hostess announced that they had just landed in Beijing “host of the 2010 figure skating Grand Prix Final, welcome and good luck skaters form around the world!” and Yuuri burst into tears. In fact, he cried the whole way through security, through baggage claim, in the Taxi and all the way to the skaters’ hotel. An older Yuuri would look back and recall this as his first ever panic attack and a tell tale sign of underlying anxiety. But his coach, attributing this to youth, bought him chocolate and forced him to go sight seeing. That, shockingly, did not help.  
When he arrived back at the hotel that evening all he wanted was some quiet time to himself. His had instructed him to stay in the room, but Hikaru, who had caught up with them only briefly on arrival, had other ideas.

“Please come.”

“No.”

“You’ll have fun.”

“I won’t.” Yuuri was determined not to give in. His day had been so bad, any kind of social interaction, let alone a party, might just push him over the edge.

“Why not?” Hikaru whined pouting.

“I’m a kid no one wants me there.” 

“I want you there. There are some great skaters in your age bracket who you’d get along with for sure. It’s just a welcoming party to make everyone feel more relaxed.”

“But talking to people doesn’t make me relaxed!"

“Please.” Yuuri thought about it for a moment. Maybe he was being too uptight about this. 

“People my age will be there?” He asked tentatively. Hikaru nodded

“Besides we’re so similar in height people probably assume we’re close in age anyway.”

“You’re just short Hikaru” he laughed, trying to cover up his uncertainty

“Hey that was uncalled for!” the older skater whined “So will you come?” Yuuri hesitated

“I-I don’t know…”

“Oh come on my room is so close, come for five minutes and if you hate it you can leave right away! Pinky promise!” He wiggled his pinky finger in the air. Reluctantly Yuuri grasped it eliciting a squeal form the other “wonderful! Right let’s go” Yuuri gaped

“R-right now?” He felt Hikaru pull his hand.

“Hang on one second”.

Yuuri freed his arm and retreated to his bathroom. His hair was weird and really flat against his forehead. He ran a hand through it to try and do, well, anything. A couple of strands stayed back, giving him an idea. He heard Hikaru knock just as he’d finished pushing his hair back.

“Yuuri are you- Damn son!” Yuuri jumped in surprise at his friend’s exclamation “Yuuri that looks great!” he fidgeted awkwardly at the praise

“Y-you think so; I just didn’t know what to do with my hair…”

“Yuuri take this as a compliment you look like a PG version of the fire emoji”

“O-okay..?” his friend smiled  
“Right let’s go!” They were at the door far too quickly for Yuuri’s liking. He could already hear voices laughing animatedly from inside. He took a deep breath, he could do this, he could do this. Hikaru swiped his card to unlock the door

“Oh I forgot to mention.”

“Hm?”

“Viktor Nikiforov is in there.”

Yuuri’s jaw dropped to the floor as the door opened and a chorus of voices greeted them. “Everyone this is my friend Katsuki Yuuri, he’ll be coming for your medals next year!” everyone laughed before turning back to their conversations. Yuuri was simply mortified. He scanned the room but unless his eyes were deceiving him, Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he left? Yuuri prayed he was right, stepping into the room.

Wrong! A door immediately in front of him swung open and out came a tall, blue eyed, Adonis of a man.  
“Hikaru you’re back! I was wondering where you…” The silver haired skaters voice trailed off as his eyes settled on the shook brunette skater standing just in front of him. His expression flipped through so many emotions so fast Yuuri didn’t know what to think. Eventually the older skaters face settled into a pleasant smile and he stretched out a hand  
“I’m Viktor, nice to meet you!” Yuuri could feel his heart crashing about in his chest as he took the other mans hand and said, far too quickly

“helloI’mYuuriKatsukiyoucancallmeYuuriI’mfromjapanmystarsignissaggitariusandIhaveadognamedafteryoupleasesignmyforehead.”Yuuri snatched his hand back and wheezed. Why had he said the last part, or any of that for that matter? Viktor was stunned for a moment before he laughed a bright sparkling laugh.  
“my star sign is Capricorn, despite Yuuri being a great name I decided to call my dog Makkachin and I think it would be a crime to ruin such a spectacular forehead with my hand writing. Maybe we cold take a photo together instead? Do you have a twitter account? I’ll follow you."

Viktor clearly hadn’t noticed that Yuuri’s soul had left his body and was floating somewhere above their heads as he took Yuuri’s phone from his unresponsive hands and began playing around with it. Yuuri had managed to pull himself together long enough to smile for a photo before he floundered again. Wasn’t there anyone who could sense his distress willing to save him from this god awful situation? As if god himself has sent an angel from heaven, a blonde skater emerged form the crowd.

“Viktor who is this keeping you hulled up over here?” His eyebrows raised slightly as his eyes locked with the younger skaters. He leant forward interested

“It’s you! You’re Yuuri!” he sounded pleased with himself. Yuuri nodded mechanically, unsure of how this man had come to know his name. “My name is Christophe Giaccometti, but you can call me Chris.” Yuuri suddenly realised who he was talking to. Chris was the Junior Grand Prix gold medallist from two years ago. His arms snaked their way around Viktor’s waist and through his shoulder length silver hair. “Someone in this room has been waiting quite a while to meet you you know?” Yuuri’s eyes widened as he scanned the room. Who could possibly want to meet him? 

The question immediately fled his mind as his attention was drawn to one of the younger skaters wearing a Team Canada Jacket. The kid grinned at him widely and strutted over. Despite being clearly younger this guy had at least 4 inches on him.

“KATSUKI YUURI I AM JJ BUT YOU CAN CALL ME KING!” Yuuri, shook, looked desperately back to where the others had been standing. But Viktor was gone and Chris was laughing his way out the door

“I’ll let you get acquainted. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go see a man about a stripper pole.”

Yuuri stumbled out of the room around 2 hours later absolutely exhausted. He had been kept hostage by that Canadian JJ and forced to listen to his self composed song “King JJ” which was catchy in spite of the narcissistic lyrics. Just when he thought he’d escaped he’d been cornered a heartbroken and emotionally unstable Georgi Preporovich, forced to pretend to empathise whilst the teen showed him pictures of a brunette kissing some random. When Georgi had left for the bathroom but promised to return with “proof that he was keeping Anya captive” he’d made a break for it. He could text Hikaru his apologies later.

“I knew that was a mistake. Ah, Hikaru why did you invite me...?” He mumbled to himself as he walked up to his door. He felt in his pocket for his key but it was nowhere to be found. He fumbled with his phone, trying to call his coach, but she wouldn’t pick up. Her room was right next to his. I’ll have to wake her up. He knocked three times but she didn’t respond. He knocked again and called through the door.  
“Excuse me! Coach can you open up?” Said Yuuri paying no attention to how loud his voice was. He just wanted to go to sleep. “Coach!” he called louder, knocking again. It was no use. He began to walk back to Hikaru’s room, when he heard a door open. He looked back gleefully, but he quickly realised that it was not his door that had opened.

“Are you okay?” Viktor was standing at the doorway to the room opposite his, silver hair damp and skin glistening slightly. Yuuri’s eyes drifted down his pale form feeling his breath hitch when he realised the man was wearing nothing but white towel around his waist.

Oh. My. God.

Yuuri’s eyes met Viktor’s unable to look away, realising that this image of Viktor was probably going to end him. The taller man quirked an eyebrow and Yuuri immediately flushed bright red, he had been staring too long.

“W-what are you doing here?” he squeaked nervously. The Russian skater chuckled at the question.

“This is my room, Yuuri.” The brunette could have sworn there was no more blood left in his body, but somehow he went even redder.

“Oh… yes.” It was so awkward Yuuri could die. He could almost feel becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Eventually he repeated his first question

“so…are you okay?” Yuuri shuffled, looking at his feet.

“I forgot my key…” his words trailed off under the silver haired teenagers gaze. For a moment he didn’t say anything, instead he looked at Yuuri with wide eyes, before opening his own door.

“You can use my phone to call the maid. They’ll unlock it for you.” Yuuri’s heart practically fell out of his chest. He was going into Viktor’s room. VIKTOR. His body on autopilot, he walked stiffly past the older skater and into the cold dark room. He heard the door swing shut and the light switch on. The room was relatively clean, but it still felt to personal to be in here. He tried not to runaway at the sight of Viktor Nikiforov’s underwear poking out from his suitcase. “Yuuri?” the Japanese boy tore his beetroot red face away from the room and back to Viktor “Here you go I dialled already.” Yuuri accepted the phone accidentally meeting his gaze again. He was so caught up in his idols dazzling blue eyes that he almost forgot to answer the voice on the other end

“A-ah no yes I’m here!” he turned away, embarrassed at his blunder “yes I locked myself out of my room…ah thank you!” He handed the phone back to Viktor, ignoring the jolt of electricity which coursed through him as their fingertips touched. He was surely imagining it but he could have sworn Viktor’s cheeks were a little rosier than usual. “Uh they’re going to come up now. I’ll just… I’ll just wait outside my room.” Yuuri scurried over to the door and was about to pull on the handle when the older skaters hand covered his own, stilling its movements. He swore he could feel Viktor’s breath on his neck. He was too close. Yuuri’s breath hitched and he just managed to squeak out. “What are you doing?” He didn’t dare look over to see the expression on Viktor’s face, terrified about what he might find there. Anger? Had he done something to upset the other skater? There was no noise other than their breathing. It was too close to Silence. It was enough to stir the anxiety in his chest. But then Viktor coughed and released his hand and chuckled

“Oh sorry if I shocked you. I was just going to ask if you could ask Hikaru to come here if you see him?” Yuuri relaxed slightly feeling his nerves dissipate.

“O-of course! Good luck tomorrow Viktor!” He fled through the door and ran into the maid just as she arrived. He unlocked the door and left promptly with a very apologetic Yuuri thanking him until he was out of sight. Yuuri didn’t realise that Viktor was still standing at his hotel room door until he heard him say

“Good luck to you too, Yuuri.” He turned in surprise just catching a flash of azure blue before his door slammed shut. It was a lucky thing there was no one else in the room because he fangirled hard, right then and there. He jumped and squealed and did a weird dance which felt like something he’d seen in a meme. His phone buzzed, bringing him back to the cusp of reality (his mind was still whirring a mile a minute)

Hikaru: Senpai Noticed you \\(^o^)/

Yuuri beamed to himself again before replying

Yuuri: I think I died hehe! By the way he asked me to tell you to go see him, he didn’t say what about :o

Despite clearly being on his phone, Hikaru took a surprisingly long time to answer. In fact, Yuuri was sure he heard the door opposite his open and close before his rink mate finally replied around ten minutes later.

Hikaru: Sorry Yuuri. Sorting something out. See you tomorrow!

Instead of worrying about un-Hikarulike that message was, he smiled texted him a sloth emoji and started to get ready for bed. He would need all of the rest he could get to impress Viktor on the ice tomorrow!

xXx 

His eyes flew open at the feeling of wheels grinding against the tarmac. He had slept the whole way from Sochi to Osaka. He blinked trying to wake his tired eyes, but it wasn’t sleep keeping his mind foggy. Yuuri touched his face fingers tracing the soft skin just beneath his eyes. Sure enough dried tears were soiling his face. He rubbed the back of his hand over the tear tracks as he opened his bag and grabbed his phone. He flicked it on with shaking fingers and turned off airplane mode. Immediately the notifications popped up on his screen. So many missed calls all very close together. His old friend had sent a single text. 

I still care about you you know?

He could have screamed. If he hadn’t been on a plane, he would have thrown his phone to the ground and stormed away right then. He was a liar. He didn’t care about Yuuri. He only cared about Viktor. They schemed and plotted against him and now he was pretending like nothing had happened. He did the only thing he could. He opened the number.

Hikaru Murasaki: Are you sure you want to delete this contact?

He clicked yes. 

Three hours later he pulled open the door to his room and he realised just how much of his childhood home he had forgotten. He had been too distraught after his last Junior GPF that he hadn’t even thought to take down his Viktor posters. The programme form the event was still on the floor where he had thrown it years ago. He dropped his duffel bag on his bed and picked it up. The front page was slightly crumpled, but the inside pages were crisp and good as new. As usual the pages were in alphabetical order. Most of the Junior skaters here were younger than him but Michelle Crispino and Jean Jaques Leroy were he only names he recognised as skaters still competing from his Junior days. A couple of pages later Yuuri found his own face staring back at him. The photo captured Yuuri’s ending pose from his free skate, probably taken at his first or second qualifier. His eyes were wide like saucers and his body was lithe and short. He smiled at himself. Back then he had felt so grown up. It was only now looking at his past self as a 19-year-old that he realised how naïve he looked back then. The hateful animal inside him purred menacingly, shifting just beneath the surface of his skin. He forced himself to look away from the picture. It was too close to that memory. A couple of pages later he found himself staring at a large pink and white heading titled ‘Senior Category’. His hand stilled. If he turns the page now he knows exactly who will be looking up at him from the page.

I shouldn’t do it.

Or should he? All day he had been tested by that beast inside him, testing to see if his heart had been freed from it’s constricting grip or if it had only tightened further. Unsurprisingly sleeping with Viktor, although necessary for causing long term psychological damage to the man, had left him in a state of hyper awareness to his own anxiety. In other words, he was a little bit broken.

If I turn the page and can stand to look at them, I’ve won. I’ve broken free of their curse.

Turning the page was like ripping off a plaster, except this time Yuuri felt as if he’d pulled his skin off with it. Hikaru and Viktor’s faces were on the pages next to each other, their graceful forms and wide smiles glaring up at him. For a moment he thought that he was free, then he saw the tear stains on the page.

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice resonated inside his head. He jumped away from the paper, covering his ears instinctively. 

“NO!” He spun around trying to get away form the offensive image in the programme but everywhere he turned his walls were filled to the brim with pictures of the man. The monster. The animal inside him took over as he launched himself at the walls. He screamed and cried and pounded his fists against the paper, unleashing every last ounce of rage through his fists. They burned but he didn’t care, he just had to escape.  
“You did this to me!” He wailed as his battered fingers found paper and ripped. He didn’t stop until the walls were bare and the posters he had once treasured so much were scattered in pieces at his feet. “I’ll break you. I’ll break you like you broke me.” He gasped as he collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

In St. Petersburg a silver haired man sat alone in his apartment. He hadn’t gone to the rink that day, everyone had told him to take the days off but if he was being honest with himself he wouldn’t have gone even if they’d asked. Instead Viktor simply replayed the video of himself and Yuuri skating side by side. The views were heading well into the millions now. Viktor’s eyes followed Yuuri’s every move. His spins were not flawless, his step sequence was almost perfect and his jumps… needed work. But his performance, oh god, his performance was out of this world. Viktor felt his heart clench. Had it already been five years? Was he really 23 now? He felt as though it was just yesterday that they shared the ice for the first time. Now Yuuri was finally catching up with the senior competition and beginning to earn more and more medals. This Grand Prix aside, Viktor was sure that they’d be sharing the ice a lot more often from now on. Viktor’s heart contracted in his chest. He’d be reminded of his mistake, a whole lot more often now. He shook his head. He had to focus on the worlds. If he got through the worlds alongside Yuuri, then everything would be okay. A buzzing sound from his phone tore his attention away from his computer. He reached over to his jacket and checked the screen. Everything suddenly went cold.

Hikaru: He texted me.

Had it really been five years? Five years since he’d ended all contact with his friend? Of course it had to be Yuuri which brought them back together. He ignored it and did a good job of ignoring it until the phone buzzed again.

Hikaru: Viktor don’t make the same mistake twice.

He yelled. Loud enough to disturb the neighbours, loud enough to frighten Makkachin from his lap. He did not care. He’d fucked Yuuri and frightened him away. When Viktor awoke the next morning, his gut reaction was to go and find Yuuri. Go and talk to him. But he’d stopped himself in an attempt to be rational.

He was drunk and now he’s embarrassed, of course he’d leave. I have to wait for him reach out to me.

“But if I don’t talk to him it will be just like last time…” He felt tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He had to call someone. Fingers shaking, he typed in a number he knew by heart. He held his breath as he listened to the dial tone, but someone quickly picked up.

“Viktor! Isn’t this a surprise? Bootycall?” Chris joked through the phone. Viktor tried to laugh but it came out sounding a lot more pathetic than he intended. He could practically feel the other man tense up through the phone

“Viktor, what happened?” Tears fell all of a sudden and he couldn’t stop himself choking out.

“Chris, I’ve done it again…I’ve done something awful to Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Either this chapter makes everything clearer, or makes everything more confusing! Either way it's fun to imagine awkward Yuuri confronted by Viktor in a bath towel.


End file.
